A year had passed, and it was evident that the style of Shi Mingyuan had become even more decisive and efficient.
Fresh from a hot spring bath and brimming with energy, she convened a joint meeting of the Celestial Republic without hesitation, regardless of the late hour.
This showed how highly respected she was in the East. The leaders of those star systems rushed to attend upon receiving the summons, without a single word of complaint.
Though it was an emergency meeting, everyone was present. More than thirty core star systems were represented, along with over ten high-ranking officials of the Republic, as well as Yang Hao and Shi Mingyuan, and behind her stood four strange old men who had followed her everywhere except when she was soaking in the hot spring.
These four elders caught Yang Hao’s attention for quite some time. They should have been very old, with white hair, beards, and eyebrows, but for some reason, Yang Hao always felt they were much older than they appeared—far older.
Although the four were elderly, they were full of vigor and vitality. They stood behind Shi Mingyuan, casting sharp and intimidating glances at anyone who approached. Wearing ancient-style robes instead of the Republic’s uniform, they exuded an aura of authority.
Shi Mingyuan offered no explanation for the elderly men. However, Heyuanzi, who had been meditating in Yang Hao’s dantian, seemed somewhat uneasy. As if sensing something, he emerged briefly, gazed at Shi Mingyuan with delight, and then resumed his cultivation with renewed urgency.
Yang Hao followed Shi Mingyuan to the joint meeting. Unexpectedly, a man named Sizhe was also among the representatives of the star systems. It seemed he was also from a prominent family, surviving on the legacy of his ancestors.
When Sizhe saw Yang Hao and Shi Mingyuan appear together, his expression turned extremely sour. But what upset him even more was Yang Hao’s current handsome and charismatic appearance. After shedding his disguise as a vagabond, Yang Hao’s youthful face was clearly visible. Standing beside Shi Mingyuan, anyone could see that they were a truly perfect couple.
When Shi Mingyuan introduced Yang Hao, it sparked a wave of astonished exclamations from the room.
“This is my husband, Lord Yang Hao, the ruler of the Western Territory of the Galactic Empire, the ruler of the Divine Prophecy Autonomous Region, and the leader of the Rebel Alliance,” Shi Mingyuan said, linking her fingers with Yang Hao’s, unwilling to let go. “He is also the savior we have been waiting for.”
“Yang Hao!!” Sizhe nearly fell over in shock. “You are Yang Hao? The Undying War God Yang Hao?”
No answer was needed, as the scene before them already spoke for itself. Yang Hao’s appearance had long spread throughout the Celestial Republic, and now standing beside Shi Mingyuan was none other than the rebel hailed as the Undying War God.
“Is it really you… still alive?” one of the star system leaders, who appeared to have beast clan blood, asked in a daze. “You survived even after fighting the Sovereign and destroying the Senate?”
“I am alive and well,” Yang Hao nodded. “Many have died, but I remain.”
“How could you survive? That was the Sovereign,” the name itself sent a slight tremor through even this burly beast-clan leader. “He has become a god. But not invincible.”
“We may have lost to the Sovereign, but next time, we will surely win,” Yang Hao knew Shi Mingyuan had gathered everyone here to rally support for their cause.
“On what basis will you win?” came the annoying voice. Sure enough, it was Sizhe. “You came to the East like a vagabond. What can you bring us? An army? Experts? Sword Master Corps? You have nothing. On what basis do you claim victory?”
“On courage! Belief!!” Yang Hao’s expression darkened as he swept his gaze across the room. “And power!”
“Power? What power do you have?” Sizhe sneered. “It seems you were just dragged back here by our female officer. Don’t tell me the Sovereign knocked some sense into you.”
“The fool is you!” the beast-clan leader suddenly became sharp-eyed, glaring at Sizhe. “Haven’t you seen the many wanted notices from the Galactic Empire? Isn’t the man on them proof of his power?”
Even if the words weren’t spoken, the star system leaders had likely already considered this. Although Yang Hao stood alone here, despite his heavy losses in the battle at the Elder Mountain, he still commanded formidable power.
The Divine Prophecy Autonomous Region remained independent from the Empire, serving as Yang Hao’s stronghold. The remaining half of the Dragon Protection Legion and the Sword Master Corps from the Dan Ding Sword Sect numbered over six sword master groups. More alarmingly, there were over two hundred experts from the Hidden Dragon Pavilion at the Saint Realm, making Yang Hao’s strength almost equal to that of the Senate.
If the Sovereign was not considered, Yang Hao indeed still had the power to challenge the Senate.
Clearly, Sizhe was not well-liked. The more than twenty star system leaders paid him no heed, instead respectfully saluting Yang Hao as a gesture to a powerful figure.
An older leader asked, “Respected powerful one, you have always been an object of admiration for our Eastern Republic. Our people regard you as the savior against the Empire. But you left the Divine Prophecy Autonomous Region and came to the East for what purpose? Is the battle against the Senate and the imperial puppet regime about to begin again? Do you need our help?”
The question was practical. Although Yang Hao was seen as the spiritual leader of the resistance, each had their own agenda. Yang Hao’s domain was in the West, while this was the East. Someone suddenly showing up here inevitably raised questions.
Yang Hao himself wasn’t sure how to answer. He couldn’t exactly tell them he had been blasted out of the planet by divine power and had been drifting in space ever since, coming to the East merely to heal.
But Shi Mingyuan seemed prepared, unexpectedly speaking up, “Yang Hao has come to take over the Celestial Republic.”
“What?”
“What?”
“Huh?”
Everyone in the room wore the same expression of shock, including Yang Hao, all surprised by Shi Mingyuan’s sudden idea.
“That’s right,” Shi Mingyuan affirmed firmly. “I plan to hand over the position of Supreme Governor of the Celestial Republic to Lord Yang Hao.”
“Why?”
“Because the Senate’s power is too overwhelming for either the East or the West to face alone. If we don’t want to die, we must unite as one fist. In this universe, who can truly oppose the Senate? Who else has fought the Sovereign? No one but Yang Hao.”
Shi Mingyuan’s gaze was resolute as she slowly scanned the faces around her. “I have decided. Only by letting Yang Hao manage the East can we truly become strong. Otherwise, with just one strike from the Senate, we will all be wiped out.”
Many star system leaders fell silent. Shi Mingyuan had hit on a fatal weakness of the Republic. Although it enjoyed many advantages, its biggest problem was a lack of experts. The total number of Saint Realm warriors was less than ten. If the Senate launched a full-scale attack, this seemingly prosperous Republic would collapse overnight.
“Actually…” Yang Hao took a deep breath, wanting to delay this matter for now. After all, Shi Mingyuan had made such a major decision without even consulting him, which seemed too hasty.
However, Shi Mingyuan’s childish stubbornness seemed unchanged. She insisted, “Back when you elected me as Supreme Governor, I already told you that I would eventually hand this position over to Yang Hao. You all agreed then.”
Yang Hao was taken aback, not expecting such a twist. Shi Mingyuan’s desire to hand over the East to Yang Hao had apparently been long-standing, even predating the Republic’s formation.
But the officials and leaders below wore expressions of embarrassment. Back then, Shi Mingyuan had appeared as the Chosen of Angel Star, a rare Saint Realm expert. To retain her as Supreme Governor, they had agreed to anything. Now, how could they suddenly hand over such a large federation to Yang Hao?
The matter was indeed somewhat inappropriate. Not only did the leaders find it hasty, but even Yang Hao himself felt it was trivial. Yet Shi Mingyuan insisted, making it clear she would quit if they refused.
As the situation reached an impasse, a fool inevitably jumped in, further complicating things.
It had been a year since they last met, and Shi Mingyuan’s decisiveness had only grown sharper. Fresh from the hot springs, brimming with energy, she wasted no time—regardless of the late hour—summoning her people to convene a joint meeting of the Star Spirit Republic.
This alone spoke volumes about Shi Mingyuan’s revered status in the East. The governors of the star systems, upon hearing her call, rushed over without a single complaint.
The impromptu special meeting was unusually well-attended. Over thirty governors from core star systems, more than a dozen high-ranking officials of the Republic, Yang Hao, Shi Mingyuan herself, and four peculiar old men who had been shadowing her—except during the hot springs—were all present.
Yang Hao had been observing these four elders for a while. They appeared ancient, with white hair, beards, and eyebrows, yet something told him they were far older than they looked—much older. Despite their age, they were full of vitality, standing guard behind Shi Mingyuan with piercing gazes that scrutinized anyone who approached. Their attire, long robes with an archaic flair rather than Republic uniforms, only added to their imposing presence.
Shi Mingyuan offered no explanation for these elders, but something stirred within Yang Hao’s dantian—Hunyuanzi, who had been in seclusion, seemed unsettled. He emerged briefly, glanced at Shi Mingyuan with a hint of delight, then immediately resumed his intense cultivation.
Yang Hao followed Shi Mingyuan into the meeting, surprised to find that the man named Sizhe was also among the star system governors. Evidently, he hailed from some noble lineage, living off his family’s legacy.
When Sizhe saw Yang Hao and Shi Mingyuan together, his face twisted in displeasure. But what truly infuriated him was Yang Hao’s striking handsomeness now that his vagrant disguise was gone. Standing beside Shi Mingyuan, no one could deny they made a perfect pair.
When Shi Mingyuan introduced Yang Hao, gasps erupted from all sides.
“This is my husband,” she said, fingers entwined with his, refusing to let go. “Yang Hao, Lord of the Western Territories of the Galactic Empire, Sovereign of the Oracle Autonomous Region, and leader of the Rebel Alliance. He is also the savior we’ve been waiting for.”
“Yang Hao?!” Sizhe nearly collapsed. “You’re Yang Hao? The Undying War God Yang Hao?!”
No answer was needed—the scene before them was proof enough. Yang Hao’s appearance was already legendary across the Star Spirit Republic, and here he stood beside Shi Mingyuan, the very rebel hailed as the Undying War God.
“You… really didn’t die?” A governor with beastkin bloodline stammered, dumbfounded. “After facing the Supreme One and destroying the Elder Council… you’re still alive?”
“I’m doing just fine,” Yang Hao nodded. “Many have died, but I’m still here.”
“How is that possible? That was the Supreme One!” Even the burly beastkin governor trembled at the name.
“He may be a god, but he’s not invincible.” Yang Hao knew why Shi Mingyuan had gathered so many—to rally them for their cause. “We lost to the Supreme One last time, but next time, we’ll win.”
“Win with what?” Sizhe sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “You came crawling to the East like a beggar. What can you offer us? Troops? Masters? Swordmaster legions? Nothing! So how can you claim victory?”
“With courage! Conviction!” Yang Hao’s expression darkened as he scanned the room. “And power!”
“Power? What power?” Sizhe scoffed. “You were caught by our officers like a stray. Don’t tell me the Supreme One scrambled your brains—”
“You’re the brainless one!” The beastkin governor suddenly snapped, glaring at Sizhe. “Haven’t you seen the countless bounties the Galactic Empire has placed on him? The man they’re hunting—isn’t that power?”
Even without saying it, the governors had already realized. Though Yang Hao stood alone here, though he had suffered heavy losses in the battle at Elder Mountain, he still commanded formidable strength.
The Oracle Autonomous Region remained independent of the Empire—his stronghold. The Dan Ding Sword Sect still retained half of the Hao Sword Legion and half of the Dragon Guard Legion, totaling over six swordmaster legions. More terrifyingly, there were over two hundred Saint-level experts from the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, making Yang Hao’s forces nearly on par with the Elder Council.
Excluding the Supreme One, Yang Hao indeed still had the strength to challenge the Elder Council.
Sizhe, clearly unpopular, was ignored by the twenty-some governors, who instead bowed respectfully to Yang Hao in a gesture reserved for the mighty.
A middle-aged governor spoke up: “Honored warrior, you’ve long been revered in our Eastern Republic. Our people see you as the savior against the Empire. But why have you left the Oracle Autonomous Region and come to the East? Is the war against the Elder Council and their puppet regime about to resume? Do you need our help?”
The question was pragmatic. Though Yang Hao was the spiritual leader of the rebellion, everyone had their own interests. His power lay in the West, while this was the East. His sudden appearance naturally raised doubts.
Yang Hao himself wasn’t sure how to answer. He couldn’t very well say he’d been blasted across the cosmos by divine power and ended up here to recover.
But Shi Mingyuan, as if prepared, unexpectedly declared: “Yang Hao has come to take command of the Star Spirit Republic.”
“What?!”
Gasps filled the room. Even Yang Hao was stunned by her sudden announcement.
“That’s right,” Shi Mingyuan affirmed. “I intend to pass the position of Supreme Governor to Lord Yang Hao.”
“Why?”
“Because the Elder Council’s power is overwhelming. Neither the East nor the West can face them alone. If we want to survive, we must unite as one. In this universe, who else has truly stood against the Elder Council? Who else has faced the Supreme One? There is no one but Yang Hao.” Her gaze swept over the room, unwavering. “I’ve made my decision. Only under Yang Hao’s leadership can the East grow strong. Otherwise, a single strike from the Elder Council will annihilate us all.”
Many governors fell silent. Shi Mingyuan had struck a nerve—the Republic’s fatal weakness. Despite their advantageous position, they lacked high-level warriors. With fewer than ten Saint-level fighters, the Republic, for all its prosperity, could collapse overnight under a full assault from the Elder Council.
“Actually…” Yang Hao took a deep breath, wanting to delay this abrupt decision. Shi Mingyuan hadn’t even consulted him—it was reckless.
But her stubborn, almost childish will hadn’t changed. She insisted: “When you elected me as Supreme Governor, I told you this position would one day belong to Yang Hao. You all agreed back then.”
Yang Hao was taken aback. He hadn’t known about this. Shi Mingyuan’s plan to hand the East to him had been in the works long before the Republic’s founding.
The officials and governors, however, looked uneasy. Back then, Shi Mingyuan had appeared as the Angel Star’s Chosen One, a rare Saint-level expert. To keep her as Supreme Governor, they’d agreed to anything. But now, handing over the entire Federation to Yang Hao was another matter.
The situation was awkward. Not only did the governors find it rash, even Yang Hao felt it was absurd. Yet Shi Mingyuan dug in her heels, threatening to step down if they refused.
Just as the meeting reached a deadlock, a fool—Sizhe—jumped in and made things worse.
“A stray dog dares call himself the leader’s husband?!” he roared, forgetting Shi Mingyuan herself had introduced Yang Hao as such. “A beggar pretending to be a master! Those fools believe you’re the Undying War God, but I don’t! No one is unkillable. You’re just a fraud driven out by the Elders, now trying to deceive the East. Do you really think we lack experts to expose your lies?”
Yang Hao grew quiet. He’d been ready to decline, but Sizhe’s outburst made him reconsider.
The war with the Elder Council was far from over. The East had its own system—a force worth utilizing. Besides, letting Shi Mingyuan deal with idiots like Sizhe was unbearable. Maybe taking over the Republic wasn’t such a bad idea.
Yang Hao saw the truth: the Supreme Governor, like the Oracle’s Sovereign, was just a figurehead for battles. The real power lay with the star system governors. Taking over wouldn’t threaten their interests.
But Sizhe, now hysterical, ranted as if Yang Hao had slaughtered his family.
“Enough!” Shi Mingyuan’s face turned pale with fury. “Sizhe, need I remind you? I’ve always said Yang Hao is the leader of all rebels. Wherever he goes, the East will follow.”
“And if he’s useless? What if he can’t lead us?” Sizhe snarled. “Unless… unless we test him. Let real experts see if he’s truly the Undying War God.”
“You want to test me?” Yang Hao’s voice was icy.
The challenge silenced Sizhe. The others looked at him with pity. Challenging the Undying War God? It sounded like suicide.
Sizhe gulped, trapped. He’d inherited his position, with no combat skills. The memory of Yang Hao melting his particle gun—the scar still fresh—made him hesitate.
“We’ll test him.”
The voice came from behind Shi Mingyuan. Everyone turned.
“Elders?” Shi Mingyuan’s face darkened.
The four old men, who had stood silently like bodyguards, now stepped forward.
“If the Elders wish to challenge Yang Hao, that’s perfect!” Sizhe perked up instantly. Though he didn’t know their origins, they were clearly Saint-level experts—each capable of rivaling an Elder. They’d followed Shi Mingyuan to the East, proving their might time and again against Imperial fleets, earning deep respect.
But Shi Mingyuan was dismayed. She knew the Elders’ true nature. What was meant to be a surprise for Yang Hao had turned into a disaster.
She feared no ordinary challenger—Yang Hao’s prowess as the Undying War God ensured victory. But these four… they were the masters who had trained her from novice to Saint-level in just a year. If they could elevate her so swiftly, how formidable were they?
Yang Hao, however, remained unfazed. He’d sensed something odd about the elders. Now, facing them might unravel the mystery.
He stepped back and nodded. “Very well. Which Elder will enlighten me?”
“All of us,” they replied in unison. “We’ll fight together.”
“What?” Even Yang Hao was stunned.
This was beyond shameless. Combined, the four were likely over five hundred years old. Yet they proposed ganging up on him without a shred of dignity.
Unbelievable.
Without another word, they struck.
True experts revealed their caliber instantly. Though their power was Saint-level, Yang Hao felt something peculiar—like facing the Divine Clan or the old Sword Saint. Their strength shouldn’t rival his, yet they seemed to suppress him.
Spotting Sizhe’s smug grin, Yang Hao knew failing here would tarnish his name and make life hard for Shi Mingyuan.
If this was the test, he’d fight with everything.
With a battle cry, he shot through the roof into the sky. “Elders, there’s no room below. Let’s fight up here!”
The four elders followed like lightning.
Three surrounded him, their hands wreathed in mist-like energy that clung like shackles.
To make matters worse, Sizhe continued to rant, “He’s clearly a vagabond, yet dares to pretend to be an expert. Those fools believe you’re the Undying War God, but I don’t. Who is truly immortal? You’re just a fame-seeker, driven out of the planet by the Senate with a few moves. Now you dare to come to the East to deceive us. Do you really think there are no experts in the East to expose your lies?”
Yang Hao calmed down. He had been reluctant before, but Sizhe’s words made him reconsider.
The war with the Senate was far from over. The East had its own system, a force that could indeed be utilized. Moreover, leaving Shi Mingyuan surrounded by people like Sizhe was unbearable. It would be better for him to take over the Republic himself.
Yang Hao could now see that the Supreme Governor of the Republic was much like the ruler of the Divine Prophecy Autonomous Region—a figurehead for conflict. Each star system’s benefits were controlled by its own leader. Taking over as Supreme Governor would not infringe upon the interests of these star system leaders in the slightest.
Yet Sizhe continued to curse Yang Hao, nearly reaching a state of madness. If people didn’t know better, they might think Yang Hao had killed his entire family.
“Enough!” Shi Mingyuan’s face turned pale with rage. “Sizhe, don’t forget, I’ve already said that Yang Hao is the leader of all rebels. No matter where he is, the East will follow him.”
“But what if he’s useless? If he lacks the ability to lead us, what then?” Sizhe spat viciously. “Unless, unless we test him, let real experts see if Yang Hao is truly the Undying War God.”
“Want to test him?” Yang Hao coldly shot back.
This single sentence silenced Sizhe. The surrounding people looked at him with sympathy. Challenging the Undying War God sounded like a death wish.
Sizhe swallowed hard, caught between a rock and a hard place. He had climbed to his position purely through inheritance, with no martial skills to speak of. The scars from when Yang Hao had melted his particle gun were still fresh. How could he dare challenge Yang Hao?
“We want to test him,” a voice suddenly floated in from the crowd, breaking the awkward silence.
The voice came from beside Shi Mingyuan, drawing everyone’s astonished attention.
“Senior Elders?” Shi Mingyuan’s face turned extremely pale.
The speaker was none other than the four old men who had stood behind Shi Mingyuan like bodyguards, cold and indifferent.
“If the Senior Elders are willing to challenge Yang Hao, that would be best,” Sizhe quickly became excited. Although he didn’t know the origins of these four elders, they were undoubtedly Saint Realm experts. Any one of them could rival an Elder. They had come with Shi Mingyuan to the East, repeatedly displaying their might during the Republic’s formation by defeating Imperial fleets and gaining widespread respect.
But Shi Mingyuan inwardly groaned. She knew the origins of these elders well. This was supposed to be a surprise she gave Yang Hao, but now the surprise had turned into a shock.
No matter who in the room wanted to challenge Yang Hao, she wouldn’t have worried in the least, for with his Undying War God powers, defeating ordinary people was certainly no problem.
But these four… were the very mentors who had guided her from a novice to a Saint Realm expert. They could transform an ordinary person into a Saint within a year. How could she possibly be an ordinary person?
Yang Hao, however, remained unfazed. He had long felt something strange about these elders but couldn’t pinpoint the oddity.
Now that he had the chance to fight them, perhaps he could unravel the mystery in his heart.
Yang Hao took a couple of steps back and nodded, saying, “Alright, which Senior Elder will test me?”
“We will all test you,” the four elders spoke in unison. “All four of us together.”
“What?” This time, even Yang Hao was stunned.
He had seen cheaters before, but never such shameless ones. The four of them, likely over five hundred years old combined, had the audacity to say they would gang up on him without batting an eyelid, not even preserving the dignity of martial experts.
It was simply inconceivable.
Without another word, the four old men attacked directly.
As the saying goes, a true expert reveals their skill with the first move. The pressure they exerted was Saint Realm-level, yet Yang Hao felt a strange sensation—as if facing a deity or the old sword saint. Though their strength was inferior, they somehow managed to suppress him.
Yang Hao caught a glimpse of Sizhe’s smug, pig-like grin. He knew that if he didn’t pass this test, not only would his reputation suffer, but Shi Mingyuan’s position would also be jeopardized.
If a real fight was what they wanted, then he would give them one.
With a whistle, Yang Hao burst through the ceiling and shot into the air, his clear voice echoing below, “Senior Elders, it’s too cramped down there. Come up and fight.”
Without needing his reminder, the four elders darted upward like lightning.
Three of them surrounded Yang Hao, their hands enveloped in a mist resembling white clouds. When they touched his body, it felt like unbreakable chains.
“Cloud Prison!” the three of them hissed lowly, positioning themselves on three sides, trapping Yang Hao—who hadn’t even realized what was happening—in the middle.
Yang Hao felt puzzled. What had captured him were merely clouds casually gathered by his opponents, nothing more than water vapor. How could such a thing bind him so tightly?
Watching from below, Shi Mingyuan was anxious, beads of fragrant sweat forming on her forehead. She hadn’t expected these four masters to show no respect whatsoever to her beloved and launch their strongest techniques right from the start.
The last time the Empire had sent troops to attack the East, a swordsaint had been trapped inside a Cloud Prison during the battle and only managed to escape after the war ended—by which time he had already suffered grave injuries and was nearly unable to fight anymore.
The Cloud Prison was a unique martial technique used by the masters. Even Shi Mingyuan didn’t understand its underlying principles. Perhaps in the entire world, only these four masters knew how to use it.
Yang Hao had also been studying it. Since arriving in the East, he had noticed the martial techniques used here were vastly different from those in the Empire. In the Empire, whether elders or swordsaints, they favored flamboyant moves and various elemental techniques. Any natural element could be enhanced for attack.
However, in the East, the techniques were purely fundamental—chopping was chopping, slashing was slashing. Yet within this simplicity lay speed and space. With these two elements added, their techniques became uniquely simple yet highly effective.
“Space!” A sudden realization flashed through Yang Hao’s mind. He quickly activated the Xian Liuying Boots, a teleportation method taught by the gods, which could manipulate the space around him.
As expected, the Liuying Boots had no effect whatsoever. The entire space seemed locked in chains.
The three masters, seeing the glow around Yang Hao’s body, looked up in surprise, astonished that Yang Hao actually knew such advanced divine techniques.
Meanwhile, the last master had been hovering hundreds of meters away. Yang Hao watched as he popped something into his mouth.
Then, a blazing fire surged into the sky, forming a fiery dragon in midair.
“Cloud Prison!” The three men shouted in unison, surrounding Yang Hao from all sides before he could react.
Yang Hao found it bizarre. What trapped him was merely some mist they had casually summoned—nothing more than water vapor. How could it bind him so tightly?
Below, Shi Mingyuan watched anxiously, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She hadn’t expected the four masters to show no mercy, immediately unleashing their strongest techniques.
The last time the empire sent troops to attack the east, a Sword Saint had been trapped in the Cloud Prison and only escaped after the battle ended—by then, he was severely injured and nearly incapacitated.
The Cloud Prison was a unique martial technique, one even Shi Mingyuan didn’t understand. In this world, perhaps only these few masters knew how to use it.
Yang Hao was also studying it. Since arriving in the east, he had noticed that the martial techniques here were vastly different from those in the empire. Whether elders or Sword Saints, the empire favored flashy moves and various spells, enhancing natural elements for attacks.
But the eastern warriors relied on the most fundamental techniques—a slash was just a slash, a strike just a strike. Yet within this simplicity lay speed and space. Combined, they formed a uniquely straightforward and practical combat style.
“Space!” A flash of insight struck Yang Hao. He immediately used the Lightflow Shadow Step, a teleportation technique taught to him by the gods, which could shift the surrounding space along with him.
As expected, the Lightflow Shadow Step had no effect. The entire space seemed locked in place by chains.
The three masters, seeing the glow around Yang Hao, looked up in astonishment, surprised that he knew such an advanced divine technique.
Meanwhile, the fourth master hovered hundreds of meters away. Yang Hao watched as he tossed something into his mouth.
Then, a fiery dragon erupted into the sky.
“Flame Dragon Sword!” Yang Hao was shocked. “Sword Pill!!!”
That master had actually swallowed a Sword Pill—a secret technique of the Dual Cultivation Sect—and unleashed the Flame Dragon Sword. What’s more, its power surpassed even Yang Hao’s, the rightful chief of the Alchemy Sect.
Yang Hao was now in a dire situation. The space around him was locked by the Cloud Prison, while the Flame Dragon Sword—his own sect’s ultimate technique—attacked from afar.
“Impressive techniques, masters,” Yang Hao said, his expression darkening. Yet an indomitable fighting spirit radiated from him. “No matter how strong the spatial chains, never forget that a sword can cut through anything.”
Before the words faded, Shadowmoon burst forth from his body, now imbued with two profound truths Yang Hao had comprehended—the Truth of Fire and the Truth of the Sword.
The ultimate laws of creation surged through Shadowmoon as it slashed ruthlessly at the chains of the Cloud Prison.
“The sword remains in hand!” Yang Hao roared like a war god descending. “The sword remains in hand!!!”
With the force of a waterfall plunging thousands of feet, Shadowmoon shattered the spatial chains of the Cloud Prison. Yang Hao soared into the sky, his hands trembling as he left a gift for the four masters below.
Tens of thousands of snow-white sword beams, like winter snowflakes or spring cherry blossoms, surged toward the four masters. The Truth of the Sword engulfed them like a tidal wave. The Flame Dragon Sword extinguished amidst the endless sword beams. Though the four masters fought back, they were drowned in the light.
Though they knew divine techniques beyond Yang Hao’s understanding, their power was only at the Saint Realm. Breaking free from their control, Yang Hao wrapped them in pure force, forcing them to rely solely on their own strength.
In this universe, aside from that old monster, the Supreme One, who could rival Yang Hao’s might?
The four masters couldn’t withstand the storm of sword beams and were forced to retreat.
But then, dozens of massive fire meteors crashed precisely onto their heads.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Each meteor carried explosive force. Even Saint Realm experts couldn’t withstand so many. The Celestial Strategy Elder had once been crippled by Yang Hao’s relentless assault.
Under the barrage of fireballs, the four masters finally collapsed, exhausted, plummeting toward the ground.
Yang Hao smirked. Shadowmoon traced a sinister arc in the air. The four masters suddenly realized that beneath their falling bodies, a massive spatial vortex had formed, its maw gaping wide, waiting to swallow them whole.
“Yang Hao! Stop!!” Shi Mingyuan, initially relieved to see Yang Hao gaining the upper hand, panicked as the four masters neared the vortex.
Yang Hao’s spatial vortex was another divine technique—a gateway to the most chaotic spatial storm. Anyone falling in would be torn to shreds instantly.
The four masters, already drained, had no strength left to resist.
Just as they were about to meet their doom, Yang Hao teleported among them with the Lightflow Shadow Step. With a gentle push, he sent them clear of the vortex’s deadly grasp.
Shi Mingyuan exhaled in relief.
The outcome was clear. The four mightiest masters of the Eastern Star Spirit Republic had been defeated by Yang Hao in a joint assault.
The title of “Undying War God” was well-earned.
The rulers of dozens of star systems now looked at Yang Hao not with doubt, but with eagerness—like patrons eyeing a courtesan.
Previously, they had supported Shi Mingyuan as the Republic’s leader because of her Saint Realm power and loyal followers. With such strength, their positions were secure.
But now, Yang Hao had demonstrated power surpassing all. Any ruler prioritizing their own safety would eagerly want him as the Republic’s guardian.
Though not as strong as the Supreme One, being second in the universe was enough.
Yang Hao landed gracefully, bowing to the four masters with a smile. The old men gasped for breath, still unable to speak.
Turning to the assembly, Yang Hao saw the rulers erupt in praise, extolling him to the heavens. Only Sicheng, like a defeated rooster, sat gloomily in his seat.
“I assume no one objects,” Shi Mingyuan declared proudly. “Then it’s decided. Yang Hao will be the Supreme Leader of the Star Spirit Republic.”
Who would oppose? The star system rulers applauded, welcoming Yang Hao’s ascension.
“Not yet.” A discordant voice rang out.
“Master?” Shi Mingyuan turned to see the dissenters—the same four grim-faced masters, now recovered enough to speak.
“He cannot take this position yet,” one of them, Master Tianxuanzi, stepped forward.
“Why not? Yang Hao has proven his strength,” a star system ruler argued on Shi Mingyuan’s behalf. Yang Hao’s display had won them over.
Hearing “Master Tianxuanzi,” Yang Hao perked up. The name was unfamiliar, but it seemed connected to Hunyuanzi.
More importantly, Tianxuanzi had used the Sword Pill technique—a closely guarded secret of the Alchemy Sect. Yang Hao had only recently mastered it himself. There had to be a link between Tianxuanzi and the sect.
Had Hunyuanzi not been in seclusion, he would’ve leapt at the name Tianxuanzi.
Tianxuanzi, his breathing steady, resumed his stern expression. “Though he has power, it’s still far from the Supreme One’s. If others took this position, the Supreme One might ignore it. But if he does, the Supreme One will come. Who among you can withstand that?”
The ruler fell silent.
Tianxuanzi was right. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, his nemesis—the Supreme One—remained. If Yang Hao didn’t lead the Republic, this small federation might escape notice.
But if he took command, uniting the eastern and western outer domains, the Supreme One would surely come to crush them. Then, there’d be no salvation.
“Master Tianxuanzi is absolutely right,” Sicheng seized the lifeline. “Making him leader invites disaster. Do we want to die?”
“Therefore,” Tianxuanzi paused, “Shi Mingyuan will remain in charge for now. We will take Yang Hao for training, to prepare him against the Supreme One.”
“What?”
Sicheng, thinking Tianxuanzi supported him, slumped back in defeat.
Tianxuanzi was Shi Mingyuan’s master—a mysterious figure from a black hole. Their training had turned Shi Mingyuan, once below Sword Master level, into a Saint Realm expert in a year.
If Yang Hao underwent the same training, how strong would he become?
Even Yang Hao couldn’t guess.
But Tianxuanzi and the others seemed certain they could elevate Yang Hao to the Supreme One’s level.
Perhaps none present realized—what Tianxuanzi planned wasn’t mere training.
It was god-making.
They intended to turn Yang Hao into a true god.
Standing in the teleportation array set by the four masters, Yang Hao marveled.
Until now, he had relied on raw power to defeat foes. But in the east, he discovered techniques rivaling strength—like spatial manipulation.
Recalling the Supreme One’s descent on the Elder Mountain—how his mere touch annihilated Sword Masters, leaving no trace—Yang Hao now suspected spatial laws were at play.
Imagine if, in an instant, tens of thousands of spatial rifts formed a net. Anyone caught in it would be shredded by the storm within.
Yang Hao understood the principle but lacked the skill to execute it. Controlling ten rifts was his limit. Tens of thousands? The energy cost alone was staggering.
Yet the four masters’ teleportation array astounded him.
Spanning a square kilometer behind the government mansion, the array was etched with intricate patterns on massive tourmaline stones—mystical symbols corresponding to cosmic forces.
As the masters activated each symbol, the array gradually came alive, charging with energy.
“Why go through this?” Yang Hao wondered. “With your power, opening a spatial wormhole for a few people should be easy, even across planets.”
Shi Mingyuan smiled. “A few planets? That’s nothing. But what about half the universe? Not even a hundred of us could manage that.”
Yang Hao was stunned. The training’s destination was that far?
Typically, martial experts could only manage short-range teleportation, often within a single planet and at great cost. Crossing planets already strained Yang Hao.
Teleporting halfway across the universe? The energy required was unimaginable. No human could achieve it, nor could dozens of anti-nuclear devices. Otherwise, the empire would’ve developed such technology.
Yet the four masters calmly activated symbol after symbol.
“They harness stellar energy,” Shi Mingyuan explained. “This array uses celestial power. The symbols map the stars.”
“Stellar energy?” Yang Hao recalled the Cosmic Circus, whose members trained with starlight but lacked mastery, making them weak.
As if answering his doubts, the four masters then performed what the empire would deem a miracle.
Without expending their own energy, they conjured a spatial gate over ten meters tall within the array.
Though Yang Hao didn’t know what lay beyond, his spirit sensed that stepping through this swirling starry portal would take him across half the universe—into the unknown.
There, the secrets of stars and space awaited him.
“Cloud Prison!” The three men shouted in unison, surrounding Yang Hao before he could react.
Yang Hao found it strange. What trapped him was merely some mist they had casually summoned—nothing more than water vapor. How could it bind him so tightly?
Below, Shi Mingyuan watched anxiously, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She hadn’t expected the four masters to show no mercy, immediately resorting to their strongest techniques.
The last time the empire sent troops to attack the east, a Sword Saint had been trapped in the Cloud Prison, only escaping after the battle ended—severely wounded and barely able to fight.
The Cloud Prison was a unique martial technique, one even Shi Mingyuan didn’t understand. In this world, perhaps only these masters knew how to use it.
Yang Hao was also analyzing. Since arriving in the east, he had noticed that the martial techniques here differed greatly from those in the empire. In the empire, whether elders or Sword Saints, they favored flashy moves and various elemental attacks, amplifying natural forces for offense.
But the eastern warriors relied on the most fundamental techniques—a slash was just a slash, a strike just a strike. Yet within that simplicity lay speed and space, forming a unique, practical combat style.
“Space!” A flash of insight struck Yang Hao. He quickly activated the “Lightflow Shadow Step,” a teleportation technique taught to him by the gods, capable of shifting the space around him.
As expected, the Lightflow Shadow Step had no effect. The entire space seemed locked in place by chains.
The three masters, seeing the glow around Yang Hao, looked up in surprise, as if astonished that he knew such an advanced divine technique.
Meanwhile, the fourth master hovered hundreds of meters away. Yang Hao watched as he tossed something into his mouth.
Then, a blazing fire dragon erupted into the sky.
“Flame Dragon Sword!” Yang Hao was stunned. “Sword Pill!!!”
That master had swallowed a Sword Pill—a secret technique of the Dual Cultivation Sect—and unleashed the Flame Dragon Sword. Strangely, its power surpassed even Yang Hao’s, the rightful chief of the Alchemy Sect.
Yang Hao was now in a dire situation. His space was locked by the Cloud Prison, while the Flame Dragon Sword—his own sect’s ultimate technique—attacked from afar.
“Impressive, masters.” Yang Hao’s expression darkened, but an indomitable spirit surged within him. “No matter how strong the chains of space, remember—a sword can cut through anything.”
Before the words faded, Shadowmoon erupted from his body, now imbued with two profound truths he had grasped:
The Truth of Fire and the Truth of the Sword.
The ultimate laws of creation, carried by Shadowmoon, slashed ruthlessly at the chains of the Cloud Prison.
“The sword remains in hand!” Yang Hao roared like a war god descending. “The sword remains in hand!!!”
With the force of a waterfall plunging thousands of feet, Shadowmoon shattered the spatial chains of the Cloud Prison. Yang Hao soared into the sky, his hands trembling as he left a gift for the four masters below.
Tens of thousands of snow-white sword beams, like winter’s blizzard or spring’s cherry blossoms, surged toward the four masters.
The Truth of the Sword drowned them in an endless tide of light. The Flame Dragon Sword extinguished within the onslaught. Though the masters fought back, they were overwhelmed.
Despite knowing divine techniques beyond Yang Hao’s comprehension, their power was limited to the Saint Realm. Yang Hao broke free, wrapping them in pure force.
Even divine techniques were useless—now, it was a contest of raw strength.
In this universe, aside from the monstrous Supreme One, who could rival Yang Hao’s might?
The four masters faltered under the storm of sword beams, forced into retreat.
Then, dozens of massive fire meteors crashed precisely onto their heads.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Each meteor carried explosive force. Even Saint Realm experts couldn’t withstand so many. The Celestial Strategy Elder had once been crippled by Yang Hao’s relentless assault.
Under the barrage, the four masters finally collapsed, plummeting toward the ground.
Yang Hao smirked. Shadowmoon traced a sinister arc in the air. The falling masters suddenly realized a colossal spatial vortex had opened beneath them, its maw gaping, waiting to devour them.
“Yang Hao! Stop!!” Shi Mingyuan, initially relieved at his victory, panicked as the masters neared the vortex.
Yang Hao’s spatial vortex was another divine technique—a gateway to the most chaotic spatial storm. Anyone falling in would be torn apart instantly.
The exhausted masters had no strength left to resist.
Just as they were about to meet their doom, Yang Hao teleported among them with the Lightflow Shadow Step. With a gentle push, he sent them clear of the vortex’s grasp.
Shi Mingyuan exhaled in relief.
The outcome was clear. The four strongest masters of the Eastern Star Spirit Republic had been defeated—jointly—by Yang Hao.
The title of “Undying War God” was well-earned.
The rulers of dozens of star systems now looked at Yang Hao not with doubt, but with eagerness, like patrons eyeing a courtesan.
Previously, they had supported Shi Mingyuan as the Republic’s leader because of her Saint Realm power and loyal followers. With such strength, their positions were secure.
But now, Yang Hao had demonstrated power surpassing all. Any ruler prioritizing survival would clamor for him to become the Republic’s guardian.
Though not as strong as the Supreme One, being second in the universe was enough.
Yang Hao landed, smiling as he bowed to the four masters. The old men gasped for breath, still unable to speak.
Turning to the assembly, he was met with a chorus of praise. Only Sicheng, like a defeated rooster, sat gloomily.
“I assume no one objects,” Shi Mingyuan declared proudly. “Then it’s decided—Yang Hao will be the Supreme Leader of the Star Spirit Republic.”
Who would oppose? The star system rulers applauded, welcoming Yang Hao’s ascension.
“Not yet.” A discordant voice cut through.
“Master?” Shi Mingyuan frowned. The dissenters were the same grim-faced masters, now recovered enough to speak.
“He cannot take this position yet,” one said, stepping forward.
“Master Tianxuan, why not? Yang Hao has proven his strength,” a ruler argued, already swayed by Yang Hao’s display.
Hearing “Master Tianxuan,” Yang Hao perked up. The name was unfamiliar, yet it felt connected to Hunyuanzi.
More importantly, Tianxuan had used the Sword Pill technique—a closely guarded secret of the Alchemy Sect. Yang Hao had only recently mastered it himself. There had to be a link between Tianxuan and the sect.
Had Hunyuanzi not been in seclusion, he would’ve reacted fiercely to the name “Tianxuan.”
Tianxuan, now composed, resumed his stern expression. “Though he has power, it’s insufficient compared to the Supreme One. Others may lead without issue, but if he does, the Supreme One will come. Who will save us then?”
The ruler fell silent.
Tianxuan was right. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, his nemesis—the Supreme One—existed. If Yang Hao remained a minor figure in this remote republic, the Supreme One wouldn’t care.
But if he led the eastern and western territories, the Supreme One would surely intervene. Then, all would be lost.
“Master Tianxuan is correct,” Sicheng seized the lifeline. “Making him leader invites disaster. Do we seek death?”
“Therefore,” Tianxuan paused, “Shi Mingyuan will remain in charge. We will take Yang Hao for training—to prepare him against the Supreme One.”
“What?”
Sicheng, thinking Tianxuan supported him, slumped back in defeat.
Tianxuan was Shi Mingyuan’s master, a mysterious figure emerging from a black hole. His training had turned her—once below Sword Master level—into a Saint Realm expert in a year.
If Yang Hao underwent such training, how strong would he become?
Even Yang Hao couldn’t guess.
But Tianxuan and the others seemed certain they could elevate him to the Supreme One’s level.
Perhaps none present realized—their training wasn’t ordinary.
It was god-making.
They would turn Yang Hao into a true god.
Standing in the teleportation array set by the four masters, Yang Hao marveled.
Until now, he had relied on brute strength. But in the east, he discovered techniques rivaling power—like spatial manipulation.
Recalling the Supreme One’s descent on the Elder Mountain—how a mere gesture annihilated Sword Masters, leaving no trace—it seemed miraculous. But perhaps it was spatial law at work.
Imagine if, in that instant, tens of thousands of spatial rifts formed a net. Anyone caught would be shredded by the storm within.
Yang Hao understood the principle but lacked the skill. Controlling ten rifts was his limit. Tens of thousands? The energy required was unimaginable.
Yet now, the masters’ teleportation array astounded him.
Spanning a square kilometer behind the government hall, the array was etched with intricate patterns on massive tourmaline stones—symbols resonating with cosmic forces.
As the masters activated each symbol, the array pulsed to life.
Yang Hao frowned. “With your power, teleporting a few people via spatial wormhole should be easy, even across planets.”
Shi Mingyuan laughed. “A few planets, yes. But half the universe? Not even a hundredfold our strength would suffice.”
Yang Hao froze. He hadn’t expected the training to be so distant.
Typically, martial experts could only manage short-range teleportation, often within a planet. Crossing planets already strained Yang Hao.
Teleporting halfway across the universe? The energy required defied belief. Not even dozens of anti-nuclear devices could achieve it. Otherwise, the empire would’ve developed such technology.
Yet the masters calmly activated symbol after symbol.
“They harness stellar energy,” Shi Mingyuan explained. “This array uses celestial power. Those symbols map the stars.”
“Stellar energy?” Yang Hao recalled the Cosmic Circus—their techniques also drew on starlight, albeit weakly.
As if answering his doubts, the masters then performed what the empire would deem a miracle.
Without expending their own energy, they conjured a spatial gate over ten meters tall within the array.
Though Yang Hao didn’t know what lay beyond, his spirit sensed that stepping into the swirling starry portal would carry him across half the universe—into the unknown.
There, the secrets of stars and space awaited him.
Yang Hao was now in a tight spot. His space was locked by the Cloud Prison, while the ultimate technique of his own sect was bearing down on him from afar.
“Truly impressive techniques from the esteemed masters,” Yang Hao’s expression changed, but a determined spirit surged from within him. “Even if these spatial chains are strong, don’t forget—swords can cut through everything!”
Before his words had even finished echoing, Yingyue erupted from his body. At this moment, Yingyue carried with it the two profound principles Yang Hao had mastered:
The Principle of Fire and the Principle of the Sword.
The ultimate laws of creation flowed through Yingyue as it slashed mercilessly and forcefully against the chains of the Cloud Prison.
“The sword remains in my hand!” Yang Hao roared, like a martial god descending into the world. “The sword remains in my hand!!!”
With a magnificent downward strike, Yingyue shattered the spatial chains of the Cloud Prison. Yang Hao soared into the sky, and as he ascended, his hands trembled, leaving behind a gift for the four masters below.
Tens of thousands of dazzling white sword beams descended like snowflakes in winter or cherry blossoms in spring.
“Cloud Prison!” The three men shouted in unison, surrounding Yang Hao from all sides before he could react.
Yang Hao found it bizarre. What trapped him was merely some mist they had casually summoned—nothing more than water vapor. How could it possibly bind him so tightly?
Below, Shi Mingyuan watched anxiously, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She hadn’t expected these four masters to show no mercy, immediately resorting to their strongest techniques.
The last time the empire sent troops to attack the east, a Sword Saint had been trapped in the Cloud Prison and only escaped after the battle ended—by then, he was severely injured and barely able to fight.
The Cloud Prison was a unique martial technique, one even Shi Mingyuan didn’t understand. In this world, perhaps only these few masters knew how to wield it.
Yang Hao was also analyzing it. Since arriving in the east, he had noticed that the martial techniques here were vastly different from those in the empire. In the empire, whether it was the elders or Sword Saints, they favored flashy moves and various elemental arts—any natural element could be amplified for attack.
But the people of the east relied on the most fundamental techniques: a slash was just a slash, a strike was just a strike. Yet within this simplicity lay speed and space. Combined, they formed a uniquely straightforward yet devastating combat style.
“Space!” A realization flashed through Yang Hao’s mind. He swiftly activated the “Lightflow Shadow Step,” a teleportation technique taught to him by the gods, capable of shifting the space around him.
As expected, the Lightflow Shadow Step had no effect. The entire space seemed locked down by chains.
The three masters, seeing the glow around Yang Hao’s body, looked up in astonishment, as if surprised he knew such an advanced divine technique.
Meanwhile, the fourth master hovered hundreds of meters away. Yang Hao watched as he tossed something into his mouth.
Then, a blazing fire dragon erupted into the sky.
“Flame Dragon Sword!!” Yang Hao was stunned. “Sword Pill!!!”
That master had actually swallowed a Sword Pill—a secret technique of the Dual Cultivation Sect—and unleashed the Flame Dragon Sword. What’s more, the power of this strike surpassed even Yang Hao’s, the rightful chief of the Alchemy Sect.
Yang Hao was now in a dire situation. The space around him was locked by the Cloud Prison, while the Flame Dragon Sword—his own sect’s ultimate technique—was hurtling toward him.
“Impressive techniques, masters,” Yang Hao said, his expression shifting. A fierce, unyielding aura radiated from him. “No matter how strong the spatial chains are, never forget—a sword can cut through anything.”
Before the words faded, Shadowmoon erupted from his body. This time, the blade carried two profound truths Yang Hao had comprehended:
The Truth of Fire and the Truth of the Sword.
The ultimate laws of creation, embodied in Shadowmoon, slashed ruthlessly at the chains of the Cloud Prison.
“The sword remains in hand!” Yang Hao roared like a war god descending. “The sword remains in hand!!!”
With the force of a waterfall cascading thousands of feet, Shadowmoon shattered the spatial chains of the Cloud Prison. Yang Hao soared into the sky, his hands trembling as he left a “gift” for the four masters below.
Tens of thousands of snow-white sword beams, like winter’s first snow or spring’s cherry blossoms, surged toward the four masters.
The Truth of the Sword engulfed them like a tidal wave. The Flame Dragon Sword was extinguished in the endless barrage of sword light. Though the four masters fought back desperately, they were overwhelmed.
Despite their mastery of divine techniques unknown to Yang Hao, their power was limited to the Saint Realm. Breaking free from their control, Yang Hao wrapped them in pure force, forcing them to rely solely on their own strength.
In this universe, aside from the monstrous Supreme One, who could rival Yang Hao’s raw power?
The four masters faltered under the relentless sword beams, retreating step by step.
Then, dozens of massive fire meteors crashed down upon them.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Each meteor carried explosive force. Even Saint Realm experts couldn’t withstand so many. The empire’s Celestial Strategy Elder had once been crippled by Yang Hao’s relentless assault.
Under the barrage of fireballs, the four masters finally collapsed, plummeting toward the ground.
Yang Hao smirked. Shadowmoon traced a sinister arc in the air. The four masters suddenly realized that beneath them, a massive spatial vortex had formed—its maw gaping, waiting to swallow them whole.
“Yang Hao! Stop!!” Shi Mingyuan, initially relieved to see Yang Hao gaining the upper hand, panicked as the four masters teetered on the brink of annihilation.
Yang Hao’s spatial vortex was another divine technique—one that opened a chaotic storm of space. Anyone caught within would be torn to shreds instantly.
The four masters, already drained of energy, had no means to resist.
Just as they were about to be consumed, Yang Hao activated the Lightflow Shadow Step, appearing among them. With a gentle push, he sent them beyond the vortex’s reach.
Shi Mingyuan exhaled in relief.
The outcome was clear. The four most powerful masters of the Eastern Star Spirit Republic had been defeated—by Yang Hao alone.
The title of “Undying War God” was well-earned.
The rulers of dozens of star systems now looked at Yang Hao not with skepticism, but with eagerness—like patrons eyeing a prized courtesan.
Previously, they had supported Shi Mingyuan as the Republic’s leader because of her Saint Realm strength and the loyal Saint Realm experts under her command. With such power, the eastern rulers felt secure.
But now, Yang Hao had demonstrated strength surpassing all. Any ruler concerned for their own safety would eagerly want him as the Republic’s guardian.
Though not as strong as the Supreme One, being second in the universe was more than enough.
Yang Hao landed gracefully, offering a respectful bow to the four masters. The old men gasped for breath, still unable to speak.
Turning to the assembly, Yang Hao saw the rulers erupt in praise, extolling him as if he were a celestial being. Only Sicheng, like a defeated rooster, sat gloomily in his seat.
“I assume no one objects now,” Shi Mingyuan declared proudly. “Then it’s decided—Yang Hao shall be the Supreme Governor of the Star Spirit Republic.”
Who would dare oppose? The star system rulers applauded, welcoming Yang Hao’s ascension.
“Not yet.” A discordant voice cut through the cheers.
“Master?” Shi Mingyuan frowned. The objection came from the four masters, who had finally caught their breath.
“He cannot assume this position yet,” one of them, Tianxuanzi, stepped forward.
“Why not?” a star ruler interjected. “Yang Hao has proven his strength!”
Yang Hao’s ears perked at the name “Tianxuanzi.” It sounded related to Hunyuanzi, and more importantly—this master had used the Sword Pill technique, a closely guarded secret of the Alchemy Sect. There had to be a connection.
Had Hunyuanzi not been in seclusion, he would’ve leaped in shock at the name.
Tianxuanzi, his expression stern, explained, “Though he has power, it’s still far from the Supreme One’s. If anyone else took this position, the Supreme One might ignore it. But if Yang Hao rises, the Supreme One will come. Who among us can withstand that?”
The assembly fell silent.
Tianxuanzi was right. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, the Supreme One remained his nemesis. If Yang Hao didn’t lead the Republic, this small federation might remain beneath the Supreme One’s notice.
But if Yang Hao united the eastern and western territories, the Supreme One would surely descend—and none could survive that.
“Master Tianxuanzi is absolutely right,” Sicheng seized the opportunity. “Making him leader invites disaster. Do we want to die?”
“Therefore,” Tianxuanzi continued, “Shi Mingyuan shall remain in charge for now. We will take Yang Hao for training—to prepare him to face the Supreme One.”
“What?” Sicheng, who had thought Tianxuanzi was supporting him, slumped back into his seat, defeated.
Tianxuanzi was Shi Mingyuan’s master—a mysterious figure who emerged from a black hole. Their training had turned Shi Mingyuan, once below Sword Master level, into a Saint Realm expert in just a year.
If Yang Hao underwent the same training, how powerful would he become?
Even Yang Hao couldn’t guess.
But Tianxuanzi and the others seemed certain—as if they could elevate Yang Hao to the Supreme One’s level at any moment.
What no one realized was that their training wasn’t ordinary.
They intended to create a god.
They would transform Yang Hao into a true deity.
Standing within the teleportation array set by the four masters, Yang Hao marveled.
Until now, he had relied on brute force to defeat his enemies. But in the east, he had discovered techniques that rivaled raw power—like spatial manipulation.
Recalling the Supreme One’s descent upon the Elder Mountain, where a mere gesture reduced Sword Masters to dust—it had seemed miraculous. But now, Yang Hao understood: it was spatial law at work.
If one could weave hundreds of thousands of spatial rifts into a net, the resulting storm would annihilate anything caught within.
Yang Hao grasped the theory, but executing it was beyond him. Controlling even ten spatial rifts was a feat—managing hundreds of thousands would require unimaginable energy.
Yet the four masters’ teleportation array was a revelation.
Spanning a square kilometer behind the government hall, the array was etched with intricate patterns on massive tourmaline stones—symbols corresponding to cosmic forces.
As the masters activated each symbol, the array pulsed to life.
Yang Hao frowned. “With your power, teleporting a few people via spatial wormhole shouldn’t be difficult—even across planets.”
Shi Mingyuan smiled. “A few planets, yes. But half the universe? Not even a hundredfold increase in power would suffice.”
Yang Hao was stunned. He hadn’t realized their destination was so distant.
Typically, martial experts could only manage short-range teleportation—many Saint Realm masters struggled even within a single planet. Crossing interstellar distances was taxing even for Yang Hao.
But traversing half the universe instantaneously? The energy required was inconceivable. No human could achieve it, nor could dozens of antimatter reactors combined. Otherwise, the empire would’ve developed such technology long ago.
Yet the four masters calmly activated symbol after symbol.
“They harness stellar energy,” Shi Mingyuan explained. “This array is powered by the stars. Those symbols map celestial bodies.”
“Stellar energy?” Yang Hao recalled the Cosmic Circus—their techniques also drew on starlight, albeit weakly.
As if answering his doubts, the four masters then performed what the empire would deem a miracle.
Without expending any personal energy, they conjured a spatial gate over ten meters tall within the array.
Though Yang Hao didn’t know what lay beyond, his spiritual sense told him that stepping through that swirling starry portal would carry him across half the universe—into the unknown.
And there, the secrets of stars and space awaited him.
Although these four masters possessed divine techniques unknown to Yang Hao, they were still only at the Saint Domain level. Yang Hao broke free from their control and wrapped them in pure, unadulterated power.
Without any divine techniques to rely on, he forced them into a direct contest of strength.
If one were to ask who in the universe could rival Yang Hao’s raw power, aside from the Supreme Sovereign—the ancient monster—there would be no one else.
The four masters, unable to withstand the swirling sword beams, were forced to retreat step by step.
But then, dozens of massive fire meteors rained down precisely upon their heads.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Each meteor carried the force of a fiery explosion. Even a Saint Domain expert couldn’t possibly withstand so many. Long ago, the Celestial Strategist Elder had suffered severe injuries from Yang Hao’s brutal style of combat.
Under the relentless bombardment of dozens of fireballs, the four masters finally could no longer endure and began to plummet.
Yang Hao sneered. Yingyue carved a strange arc through the air. Suddenly, the four masters realized that beneath their falling bodies had appeared a massive spatial vortex, its gaping maw ready to swallow them whole.
“Yang Hao, no!!!” Shi Mingyuan had been delighted watching Yang Hao gain the upper hand, but when she saw the four masters about to fall into the spatial vortex, she panicked. The vortex Yang Hao had created was a divine technique—a chaotic spatial storm eye. Anyone falling into it could be torn apart in an instant.
The four masters, already drained of strength, had no power left to resist.
As they were about to fall into the vortex and perish, Yang Hao suddenly activated the Liuying Boots, appearing in the middle of the four, gently tapping each of them, allowing them to escape the vortex’s deadly pull.
Seeing this, Shi Mingyuan finally let out a sigh of relief.
At this point, the outcome was clear. The four most powerful elders of the Eastern Celestial Republic had been defeated by Yang Hao working together.
The title “Undying War God” was indeed well-earned.
The rulers of the dozens of star systems now looked at Yang Hao not with doubt, but with the eagerness of a client meeting a courtesan—desperate and impatient.
Why had they previously chosen Shi Mingyuan as the supreme ruler of the Republic? It was precisely because she herself possessed Saint Domain power and had several Saint Domain experts devoted to her. With such strength as a guarantee, the rulers of the Eastern star systems felt secure in their positions.
But now, Yang Hao had displayed unmatched power. Any ruler thinking of their own interests was eager to have Yang Hao become the Republic’s protector.
Though not as powerful as the Supreme Sovereign, being second in the universe was more than enough.
Yang Hao descended to the ground and smiled, bowing respectfully to the four masters. The four old men gasped for breath, still too exhausted to speak.
Yang Hao turned back to look at the people inside the hall. As if on cue, the rulers all rose to praise him, heaping endless compliments upon him. Only Sizhe stood there like a defeated rooster, his expression dark and stormy.
“I suppose no one objects anymore,” Shi Mingyuan said proudly. “Then it’s decided—Yang Hao will be the Supreme Chancellor of the Celestial Republic.”
Who would dare object now? The rulers of the various star systems clapped in unison, welcoming Yang Hao to his new position.
“Not yet,” an unwelcome voice interrupted.
“Master?” Shi Mingyuan turned to see the same grim-faced masters raising objections once again. They had barely recovered their breath but immediately spoke out.
“He is not yet ready for this position,” one of the masters stepped forward.
“Master Tianxuanzi,” Shi Mingyuan asked, “why not? Yang Hao has already demonstrated his strength.”
Before Shi Mingyuan could speak, one of the star system rulers stepped forward to argue. Yang Hao’s display had deeply impressed them all.
When Yang Hao heard the name “Master Tianxuanzi,” his ears perked up slightly. He had never heard of this name before, but it seemed related to Hunyuanzi.
“Cloud Prison!” The three men shouted in unison, surrounding Yang Hao before he could react.
Yang Hao found it bizarre. What trapped him was merely some mist they had casually summoned—nothing more than water vapor. How could it bind him so tightly?
Below, Shi Mingyuan watched anxiously, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She hadn’t expected these four masters to show no mercy, immediately unleashing their strongest techniques.
The last time the empire sent troops to attack the east, a Sword Saint had been trapped in the Cloud Prison, only escaping after the battle ended—by then, he was severely injured and barely able to fight.
The Cloud Prison was a unique martial technique, one even Shi Mingyuan didn’t understand. In this world, perhaps only these few masters knew how to use it.
Yang Hao was also studying it. Since arriving in the east, he had noticed that the martial techniques here were vastly different from those in the empire. In the empire, whether elders or Sword Saints, they favored flashy moves and various elemental attacks, enhancing natural elements for combat.
But the eastern warriors relied on the most fundamental techniques—a slash was just a slash, a strike just a strike. Yet within this simplicity lay speed and space, combining to form uniquely efficient and deadly attacks.
“Space!” A flash of insight struck Yang Hao. He immediately activated the *Flickering Shadow Step*, a teleportation technique taught to him by the gods, capable of shifting the space around him.
As expected, the *Flickering Shadow Step* had no effect. The entire space seemed locked down by chains.
The three masters, seeing the glow around Yang Hao’s body, looked up in surprise, as if shocked that he knew such an advanced divine technique.
Meanwhile, the fourth master hovered hundreds of meters away. Yang Hao watched as he tossed something into his mouth.
Then, a blazing fire dragon erupted into the sky.
“Flame Dragon Sword!” Yang Hao was stunned. “Sword Pill!!!”
That master had actually swallowed a Sword Pill—a secret technique of the Dual Cultivation Sect—and unleashed the Flame Dragon Sword. What’s more, its power surpassed even Yang Hao’s, the rightful chief of the Alchemy Sect.
Yang Hao was now in dire straits. The space around him was locked by the Cloud Prison, while the Flame Dragon Sword—his own sect’s ultimate technique—attacked from afar.
“Impressive techniques, masters,” Yang Hao’s expression darkened, but an indomitable spirit radiated from him. “No matter how strong the spatial chains, remember—a sword can cut through anything.”
Before the words faded, *Shadow Moon* erupted from his body, now imbued with two profound truths he had grasped:
The Truth of Fire and the Truth of the Sword.
The ultimate laws of creation surged through *Shadow Moon*, striking ruthlessly at the chains of the Cloud Prison.
“Longsword in hand!” Yang Hao roared like a war god descending. “Longsword still in hand!!!”
With the force of a waterfall cascading thousands of feet, *Shadow Moon* shattered the spatial chains of the Cloud Prison. Yang Hao soared into the sky, his hands trembling as he left a gift for the four masters below.
Tens of thousands of snow-white sword beams, like winter’s blizzard or spring’s cherry blossoms, flooded the battlefield.
The Truth of the Sword engulfed the four masters. The Flame Dragon Sword was extinguished in the endless barrage of sword light. Though the masters fought back, they were overwhelmed.
Despite their mastery of divine techniques unknown to Yang Hao, they were only at the Saint Realm. Breaking free from their control, Yang Hao wrapped them in pure force, forcing them to rely solely on their own strength.
In this universe, aside from the monstrous Supreme One, who could rival Yang Hao’s power?
The four masters faltered under the storm of sword beams, retreating step by step.
Then, dozens of massive fire meteors crashed down upon them.
**Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!**
Each meteor carried explosive force. Even Saint Realm experts couldn’t withstand so many. The Celestial Strategy Elder had once been crippled by Yang Hao’s relentless assault.
Under the barrage, the four masters finally collapsed, plummeting toward the ground.
Yang Hao smirked. *Shadow Moon* traced a sinister arc in the air. The falling masters suddenly realized a massive spatial vortex had opened beneath them, its maw gaping, waiting to swallow them whole.
“Yang Hao! Stop!!” Shi Mingyuan, initially relieved at his victory, panicked as the masters neared the vortex.
Yang Hao’s spatial vortex was another divine technique—a gateway to the most chaotic spatial storm. Anyone falling in would be torn apart instantly.
The exhausted masters had no strength left to resist.
Just as they were about to meet their doom, Yang Hao teleported among them with the *Flickering Shadow Step*, gently pushing them out of the vortex’s reach.
Shi Mingyuan exhaled in relief.
The outcome was clear. The four strongest masters of the Eastern Star Spirit Republic had been defeated by Yang Hao.
The title of “Undying War God” was well-earned.
The rulers of dozens of star systems now looked at Yang Hao not with doubt, but with eagerness—like patrons eyeing a courtesan.
They had once supported Shi Mingyuan as the Republic’s leader because of her Saint Realm power and loyal followers. But now, Yang Hao’s overwhelming strength made him the ideal protector.
Though not as strong as the Supreme One, being second in the universe was enough.
Yang Hao landed, bowing respectfully to the four masters, who gasped for breath, unable to speak.
Turning to the assembly, he was met with unanimous praise—only Si Zhe sat defeated, his expression shifting between gloom and frustration.
“I assume no one objects,” Shi Mingyuan declared proudly. “Then it’s decided. Yang Hao shall be the Supreme Governor of the Star Spirit Republic.”
No one dared oppose. The star system rulers applauded, welcoming Yang Hao’s ascension.
“Not yet.” A discordant voice cut through the cheers.
“Master?” Shi Mingyuan frowned. The dissenters were the same four grim-faced masters, now recovered enough to speak.
“He cannot take this position yet,” one of them, Tianxuanzi, stepped forward.
“Why not? Yang Hao has proven his strength!” A star ruler protested before Shi Mingyuan could speak.
Yang Hao’s ears perked at the name *Tianxuanzi*. It sounded related to *Hunyuanzi*.
More importantly, Tianxuanzi had used the *Sword Pill* technique—a closely guarded secret of the Alchemy Sect. Yang Hao had only recently mastered it himself. There had to be a connection between Tianxuanzi and the sect.
Had Hunyuanzi not been in seclusion, he would’ve leaped at the name *Tianwei*.
Tianxuanzi, now composed, spoke coldly: “Though he has power, it’s still far from the Supreme One’s. If others took this position, the Supreme One might ignore it. But if *he* rises, the Supreme One *will* come. Who will save us then?”
The star ruler fell silent.
Tianxuanzi was right. Even at his peak, Yang Hao had a mortal enemy—the Supreme One. If Yang Hao remained obscure, the Supreme One wouldn’t care about this small republic.
But if Yang Hao led the eastern and western outer domains, the Supreme One would surely descend to crush them.
“Master Tianxuanzi is correct!” Si Zhe seized the argument. “Making him leader invites disaster. Do we want to die?”
“Therefore,” Tianxuanzi paused, “Shi Mingyuan will remain in charge for now. We will take Yang Hao for training—to prepare him against the Supreme One.”
“What?”
Si Zhe, thinking Tianxuanzi supported him, slumped back in defeat.
Tianxuanzi was Shi Mingyuan’s master—a mysterious figure emerging from a black hole. Their training had turned her from a novice to a Saint Realm expert in a year.
What heights would Yang Hao reach under their guidance?
Even Yang Hao couldn’t guess.
But the masters seemed certain they could elevate him to the Supreme One’s level.
Perhaps none present realized—what the masters planned wasn’t mere training.
They intended to **create a god**.
Standing within the masters’ teleportation array, Yang Hao marveled.
Before, he had relied on brute strength. But in the east, he discovered techniques rivaling power—like spatial manipulation.
Recalling the Supreme One’s descent on Elder Mountain—how his touch obliterated Sword Saints without a trace—Yang Hao now suspected spatial laws were at play.
If one could weave tens of thousands of spatial rifts into a net, the resulting storm would shred anything to nothingness.
Yang Hao understood the principle but lacked the power to execute it. Controlling ten rifts was his limit; tens of thousands would require unimaginable energy.
Yet the masters’ teleportation array astounded him.
Spanning a square kilometer behind the government hall, the array was etched with intricate patterns on massive tourmaline stones—symbols resonating with cosmic forces.
As the masters activated each symbol, the array pulsed to life.
“Why go through this?” Yang Hao wondered. “With their power, opening a spatial wormhole for short jumps should be easy.”
Shi Mingyuan smiled. “For a few star systems, yes. But to cross half the universe? Not even a hundred times our power would suffice.”
Yang Hao was stunned. The training’s destination was *that* far?
Most martial experts could only manage short-range teleportation, draining their energy. Even Yang Hao struggled with interplanetary jumps.
Crossing half the universe instantly demanded impossible energy—beyond human capability, even with multiple antimatter reactors. Otherwise, the empire would’ve developed such technology.
Yet the masters methodically activated symbol after symbol.
“They harness stellar energy,” Shi Mingyuan explained. “This array uses celestial power. The symbols correspond to stars.”
“Stellar energy?” Yang Hao recalled the Cosmic Circus, whose members trained with starlight—albeit weakly.
As if answering his doubts, the masters performed what the empire would deem a miracle.
Without expending their own energy, they conjured a ten-meter-tall spatial gate within the array.
Though Yang Hao didn’t know what lay beyond, his spirit sensed that stepping through this swirling star gate would transport him across half the universe—into the unknown.
There, the secrets of stars and space awaited him.
In fact, Hunyuanzi had sealed off his four senses to enter deep meditation. Otherwise, hearing the name Tianweizi would have made him jump eight feet high.
Tianxuanzi, having regained his composure, spoke with a stern expression: “Though he now possesses some strength, it is still insufficient. Compared to the Supreme Sovereign, he is far behind. If someone else takes this position, the Sovereign might not care. But if this man rises to power, the Sovereign will surely come to kill him. Who among you will be able to save yourselves then?”
The ruler was left speechless.
Tianxuanzi was right. No matter how powerful Yang Hao was, he still had a deadly enemy—the Supreme Sovereign. If Yang Hao didn’t become the Republic’s ruler, given the Republic’s small and isolated status, the Sovereign wouldn’t even bother to notice.
But if Yang Hao rose to power, uniting the East and the outer territories of the West, the Sovereign would surely come to suppress him. Then, truly, there would be no salvation.
“Master Tianxuanzi is absolutely right,” Sizhe clung to this lifeline like a drowning man. “If he becomes the supreme ruler, he’ll bring nothing but trouble. Do we really want to invite death?”
“Therefore,” Tianxuanzi paused, then continued, “for now, Shi Mingyuan will continue to lead. We will take Yang Hao back for training, preparing him to rival the Supreme Sovereign.”
“What?”
“What?”
“Ah?”
Sizhe had thought Tianxuanzi was helping him, but he hadn’t expected this outcome. He slunk back to his seat in defeat.
Who was Tianxuanzi? He was Shi Mingyuan’s master, a mysterious expert who had emerged from a black hole. Their training methods had only ever been given to Shi Mingyuan. Within just a year, she had gone from being a woman with less than a swordsage’s skill to becoming a Saint Domain expert.
If Yang Hao underwent such training, how powerful would he become?
Even Yang Hao himself couldn’t say.
But Tianxuanzi and the others looked completely confident, as if they could elevate Yang Hao to the level of the Sovereign at any moment.
Perhaps no one in the room realized that what Tianxuanzi and the others were about to do was not ordinary training.
It was god-making.
They were going to transform Yang Hao into a true god.
Standing inside the teleportation formation set up by the four masters, Yang Hao still felt amazed.
Before this, he had always relied on his own strength to defeat enemies. But since arriving in the East, he had discovered that there were many techniques that could rival raw power—such as mastery over spatial forces.
Now that he thought about it, back on the Elder Mountain, the Supreme Sovereign had descended like a god, and with a single gesture, reduced sword masters to ashes, leaving not even a trace of their bodies. It had seemed like an impossible miracle at the time, but perhaps it was simply the use of spatial laws.
Imagine, if in that moment, hundreds of thousands of spatial rifts were densely woven into a net. When this net covered someone, the spatial storms within the rifts would tear them apart until not even a speck remained.
Yang Hao could imagine how the Sovereign had done it back then, but he had to admit that with his current abilities, he was nowhere near capable of doing the same. At present, controlling ten spatial rifts was already pushing his limits. To control hundreds of thousands at once—regardless of whether it was even possible—the energy required would be unimaginably vast.
But now, the teleportation formation set up by the four masters truly opened Yang Hao’s eyes.
This formation was located behind the government mansion, covering an area of nearly one square kilometer. Countless giant tourmaline stones were carved with intricate patterns—mysterious symbols that seemed to correspond to certain forces in the universe.
The four masters needed to activate each of these symbols one by one. As the activation process unfolded, the entire formation seemed to be charging with energy, gradually coming to life.
Yang Hao was puzzled: “With the masters’ abilities, transferring a few people should be as simple as opening a spatial wormhole. Crossing a few planets wouldn’t be difficult.”
But Shi Mingyuan smiled: “Crossing a few planets is easy for us, but what about crossing half the universe? Not even we could do that, even if we multiplied our power a hundredfold.”
Yang Hao was momentarily stunned. He hadn’t expected the purpose of this training to be so far away.
Generally speaking, martial experts opening spatial wormholes for transportation usually did so over short distances. Many Saint Domain experts could do it, but only within the same planet—and even that came at a great cost. Interplanetary travel was already quite difficult for Yang Hao.
Instantaneous teleportation across half the universe would require an unimaginable amount of energy. It was practically inconceivable. It wasn’t just a matter of human capability—hooking up dozens of antimatter reactors wouldn’t be enough either. Otherwise, the Empire would have already developed such instantaneous teleportation technology.
But the four masters continued methodically activating one mysterious symbol after another.
“The masters will use the energy of the stars,” Shi Mingyuan seemed to know what Yang Hao was thinking. “This teleportation formation completely relies on stellar energy. Those symbols are reflections of the stars in the sky.”
“Stellar energy?” Yang Hao thought of the Starlight Circus. Those people’s cultivation seemed to involve stellar energy, though they hadn’t mastered it well enough to be very powerful.
But the four masters seemed to respond to Yang Hao’s skepticism. The scene they displayed next would be considered nothing short of a miracle in the Empire.
Without expending even a fraction of their own strength, the four masters created a spatial portal over ten meters tall within the formation.
Though Yang Hao didn’t know what lay beyond, his spiritual sense told him that stepping through that swirling starry gateway would transport him across half the universe to an entirely unknown realm.
And that realm would seemingly reveal to him the mysteries of stars and space.
Yang Hao
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